A very personal observation from me: it felt good to have Larry Rapant join us last night. Larry has been a huge part of my poetry life. He and Tom and I "toured" the open mics in the 1990s, performing as a group, sometimes with Brian Kennedy and Tom's musical accompaniment. I doubt how good my poetry was then, but I had fun. It felt like old times to have him with us, and at my age, old times are very meaningful. I am not going to attempt to critique Larry's poem or Tom's today. They have been my teachers and mentors and frankly, I consider them perfect in every way. The blog title is my favorite phrase from Larry's poem.
BTW, my research into Merovingian Dynasty shows it to be the Satanic Bloodline of the Antichrist or False Prophet. Or, a Frankish dynasty that ruled in Gaul and Germany circa 500 a.d. Your choice.
Couple of other poems received little or no critique. Everyone loved Mimi's Parked on Pavement. Great title. Amusing. Jim Williams, who slipped in at the last moment in his soccer ref's uniform (quite green) had us laughing with three versions of his Comely young woman from Wiesbaden, one in German, one French, final in English.
Paul (who was in charge of the gavel for a portion of the evening until he fell down on the job) was pretty much letter perfect as usual with Cookies and Cakes. Some quibbling over "dolls and bicycles". Paul had assisted Ally with a successful rewrite of Toxic Silence. I love it when people actually put into practice the advice they are given.
The Bird wrote a Perious Frink adventure with a surprise ending and a pretty good rhyme scheme, which could be made excellent with a little closer editing. Alan Other rhymed not quite so successfully but musically. I was proud of him, too, for revising last week's poem and bringing it for a return appearance. He is striving to become a good poet.
Rachael was back with another of her thoughtful works, with good tone and feeling. Someone suggested better lines breaks and relocating the first stanza. Several people were enlightened by the idea of a phone cradle. Ah, you babies.
Philomena equated true poetry to a juicy peach. It is hard to avoid cliches, I opine, when describing peaches, but here the addition of the ripe young woman and the heroin addict led it out of the realm of the mundane. To carotid or not to carotid.
Personally, I thought Tim's poem had transition problems. I liked both halves - the office crowd and the big ugly woman - but wanted the way smoothed or made into two poems. His characters sketches were right on, as always.
Saving Markle-Farkle until last as my favorite. Just great imagery. Interspersed with conversation. Nice font. Ditched the title. Whole last verse is dyn-o-mite.
Lots of events going on. Check out post-ettes.
Sunday Four is this weekend, with Mimi and her brother. 3 p.m. with food.
Some of Us
Dennis Sullivan, Beverly Osborne, Tom Corrado, Edie Abrams, Art Willis, Alan Casline (all seated); Paul Amidon, Mike Burke, Tim Verhaegen, Mark O'Brien, Barbara Vink, Philomena Moriarty
Friday, June 26, 2009
Monday, June 15, 2009
Sunday, June 14, 2009
SCREAM
Okay, I made a web album of yesterday's pics and succeeded in linking it to the blog. If you follow the link, however, it tells you it can't find it. Don't know what I'm doing. Mark tried to help me over the phone, but it obviously didn't work. I'll try again from the office. It is giving me a headache.
Yesterday was lovely and wet. The food was great. Everyone was jolly. Mike and Donna were good hosts. I forgot to take a photo of the parrot plates. I brought Tony. Significant others were present (Ginny Rapant, Dr. Jennifer, Dan M., Steve Schreiber, Georgia, Donna and her dog Annie) - about 20 of us, and some dogs, including Susie The Summer Dog. I ate a lot, got soaked, was particularly happy to see Dee and Larry who make rare appearances. Georgia took pictures of feet. Ron and Edie and Tim and Ally Cat were no-shows. Dennis ate a lot, Mark made Black and Tans with his turtle thingy - there's a photo if you ever get to see them. Mike made good burgers, sausage, hot dogs. I shared with Susie.
It was a trip down Memory Lane for those of us who used to frequent Lil and Bill's in our youth, including Dan Moriarty. Sad to see it in disrepair. Fun times there. Made me want to dance. Jack, the owner, hauled out old photos and we saw young Mikey Burke.
I left before any poetry happened. Don't know if it did. Wasn't in a poetic mood and felt bad that Eli was home alone most of the day.
Also, half drowned.
Yesterday was lovely and wet. The food was great. Everyone was jolly. Mike and Donna were good hosts. I forgot to take a photo of the parrot plates. I brought Tony. Significant others were present (Ginny Rapant, Dr. Jennifer, Dan M., Steve Schreiber, Georgia, Donna and her dog Annie) - about 20 of us, and some dogs, including Susie The Summer Dog. I ate a lot, got soaked, was particularly happy to see Dee and Larry who make rare appearances. Georgia took pictures of feet. Ron and Edie and Tim and Ally Cat were no-shows. Dennis ate a lot, Mark made Black and Tans with his turtle thingy - there's a photo if you ever get to see them. Mike made good burgers, sausage, hot dogs. I shared with Susie.
It was a trip down Memory Lane for those of us who used to frequent Lil and Bill's in our youth, including Dan Moriarty. Sad to see it in disrepair. Fun times there. Made me want to dance. Jack, the owner, hauled out old photos and we saw young Mikey Burke.
I left before any poetry happened. Don't know if it did. Wasn't in a poetic mood and felt bad that Eli was home alone most of the day.
Also, half drowned.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Another Oops
I was having a very hectic day and in my confusion, I forgot to blog Tim's wonderful poem. In fact it was my favorite of the night and I was saving it for last, ended up leaving it out altogether. I felt that it was kind of a breakthrough poem for Tim - no repetition. Great sea, fog imagery, a real lonely feeling. Everyone liked it. Only suggestion was to save the last few lines for another poem and he seemed receptive to that idea. My apologies.
Monday - I can't believe it. When I got to work this am I found Alan C.'s poem, forgotten, forlorn and unblogged. It was another favorite of mine. Called Surface Ice is Walkable, includes plunging a foot into the semi - frozen creek. Beautiful: "stone heads all found wearing imperfect icy halos". So, if there 's anyone else I need to apologize to, consider it done.
Monday - I can't believe it. When I got to work this am I found Alan C.'s poem, forgotten, forlorn and unblogged. It was another favorite of mine. Called Surface Ice is Walkable, includes plunging a foot into the semi - frozen creek. Beautiful: "stone heads all found wearing imperfect icy halos". So, if there 's anyone else I need to apologize to, consider it done.
Paul Perfect is Dead
...killed by his own hand, acknowledged by his own lips. "Old George" was less than perfect. Tim and the Bird and the BlogGoddess were all disappointed that George lacked the emotional punch that we expect from Paul. Philomena contributed "Consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds" and Mimi lauded it for its clarity and cleanliness. Tim suggested that the comic element of the old guy burying his drinking money should be pushed.
Alan Siegel strove and succeeded in attaining clarity in The Eternal One. There was some discussion over the repetition of "moment to moment" and Mimi brought up some weird thing about counting syllables, which didn't seem to matter to anyone else, but thanks, Mimi.
Mimi's poem From the Attic was a masterpiece in my view. Great imagery, emotion, a message. Led to a discussion on enjambment (leaving a deliberate pause to let your mind change direction).
Mark was brimming with emotion in a two-titled poem about his mother. I think we talked him into The Keening. He confessed a phrase pillage from Yeats - "decked and altered" but had a lot of his own good stuff in it - "extravagance of breath", "lost to a notbook on the bedstead of a lifetime".
The M sisters thought that Edie's Surprise was the best she had ever written. Paul said "it could have been trite but it's not because of the way it is done." "Ah, but friends..."
"Zen up" was a phrase applied to Philomena in a good poem called Perspective, but her specific intention passed right by us (the same as another recent work). I suggested ending the poem at "death's foot hovering", following the popular ant stanza. The final verse was a great one, but misplaced.
No poem from me. Short blog because I am busy. Visit the HVWG website for guidelines for a current poetry contest. Hope you got the directions to Thompson's Lake.
Alan Siegel strove and succeeded in attaining clarity in The Eternal One. There was some discussion over the repetition of "moment to moment" and Mimi brought up some weird thing about counting syllables, which didn't seem to matter to anyone else, but thanks, Mimi.
Mimi's poem From the Attic was a masterpiece in my view. Great imagery, emotion, a message. Led to a discussion on enjambment (leaving a deliberate pause to let your mind change direction).
Mark was brimming with emotion in a two-titled poem about his mother. I think we talked him into The Keening. He confessed a phrase pillage from Yeats - "decked and altered" but had a lot of his own good stuff in it - "extravagance of breath", "lost to a notbook on the bedstead of a lifetime".
The M sisters thought that Edie's Surprise was the best she had ever written. Paul said "it could have been trite but it's not because of the way it is done." "Ah, but friends..."
"Zen up" was a phrase applied to Philomena in a good poem called Perspective, but her specific intention passed right by us (the same as another recent work). I suggested ending the poem at "death's foot hovering", following the popular ant stanza. The final verse was a great one, but misplaced.
No poem from me. Short blog because I am busy. Visit the HVWG website for guidelines for a current poetry contest. Hope you got the directions to Thompson's Lake.
Friday, May 29, 2009
The Great Honkers Mystery
I am naming names: Paul, Mike B., Kathy and Cathy, Tim and Jim, Art and Dennis, and taking numbers, whatever that means, of those of you who have not shown up with artwork yet. Edie and Obee have contacted me and made arrangements, but I am expecting the DELINQUENTS to drop work off before Sunday when the show goes up. Thanks, Moriartys and Alan, for being so prompt. I am particularly impressed with Alan's great effort with Chutes and Ladders.
I passed out invitations to be taken to friends and rels for the show reception here on June 18. Ask me for some. We will have refreshments between 6 - 8 p.m. and hang around to impress the art critics who will be swarming to review our exhibit. Wearing black is de riguer and cigarette holders are acceptable as long as they are not holding actual cigarettes.
The Moriarty girls seem to be thinking along similar lines if their poems were any indication. Philomena wrote about "her" saint - Philomena, of course - guarding the gates of her womanhood. It was an assault on the universal theme of the value of female chastity. Paul suggested reversing the final two verses, which was a good idea. The intrusion of the saint made it a little confusing and someone suggested a title change to what worth woman. Mimi wrote a prose poem about women taking charge of their sexuality, also with "gate" references. Weird coincidence. Mimi's ended on a triumphant note and a laugh.
Strangely, Paul Perfect's Gold Star Mother took a little heat last night, with some wanting lines to be eliminated. It was powerful subject matter and, as usual, Paul stuck to his Big Berthas.
Alan must have expended all his creative energy on painting because his poetic efforts were a little on the lazy side: LAST LINES OF THE POETRY GROUP ON THE FOURTH THURSDAY IN MAY by The Every Other Thursday Night Poetry Group. The poem was not much longer than the title.
We entertained (at least I think we did) another Alan in the person of first-timer Alan Siegel. He jumped right in and took our criticism of his poem with good humor. It was another philosophical concept womb poem with some good lines, but some glaring faults which detracted from it the message. (written in all caps, quotation marks, underlines). Mimi reminded us all: "It doesn't matter if you know what you mean if you are not communicating it to the audience." Best advice.
Ally Cat communicated very well with Toxic Silence, about a 14 year-old boy who was shielded from his father's illness and subsequent death and the effect it had on his whole life.
Tim presented a clean, powerful poem we all liked. It turned out that we did not get the message from it that Tim intended, but the audience felt it was very effective with the message we heard. Good controlled repetition, Mimi suggested couplets. Tim thought he should write another version.
I dragged out a poem I had written in April that I wasn't crazy about but people pretended to like it. Called it Leaving Without Luggage re my father's death. In response to a query I just said I thought it was not bad, but mediocre. I still think so.
Okay, on to the honkers debate. To sum up, Obee used the word in a great poem - "upon my honkers as I lie" - and refused to tell us what it meant, so we all guessed and I promised to look it up. I guessed "butt" but Merriam-Webster said "nose". Today Obee caved and told me look in a neat site called the urban dictionary, where it describes honkers as haunches, which is close to butt, and also something Alan mentioned. Now I have forgotten how it was used in the poem, but the mystery part is put to rest. The poem, called Travelers, read like a prayer or a lullaby and we liked "dipping (the) ladle into sleep."
On to the news and gossip: Mimi asked that I report that HVWG is having a picnic on Sunday afternoon, August 2, in the Paint Mine area of Thacher Park. It is a "bring a dish to pass" type party and it sounds like fun to me. Details to come. Also, remember poetry extravaganza on June 1 at Smitty's. Larry's philosophers meet June 4. Lifelines is on vacaton until September. There was a good turnout for Sunday Four and Mimi is the feature in June.
Tom is out of town, the Beach Boy has moved to the lake, and Obee just called with news of a computer disaster. I have a headache, if anyone cares.
I passed out invitations to be taken to friends and rels for the show reception here on June 18. Ask me for some. We will have refreshments between 6 - 8 p.m. and hang around to impress the art critics who will be swarming to review our exhibit. Wearing black is de riguer and cigarette holders are acceptable as long as they are not holding actual cigarettes.
The Moriarty girls seem to be thinking along similar lines if their poems were any indication. Philomena wrote about "her" saint - Philomena, of course - guarding the gates of her womanhood. It was an assault on the universal theme of the value of female chastity. Paul suggested reversing the final two verses, which was a good idea. The intrusion of the saint made it a little confusing and someone suggested a title change to what worth woman. Mimi wrote a prose poem about women taking charge of their sexuality, also with "gate" references. Weird coincidence. Mimi's ended on a triumphant note and a laugh.
Strangely, Paul Perfect's Gold Star Mother took a little heat last night, with some wanting lines to be eliminated. It was powerful subject matter and, as usual, Paul stuck to his Big Berthas.
Alan must have expended all his creative energy on painting because his poetic efforts were a little on the lazy side: LAST LINES OF THE POETRY GROUP ON THE FOURTH THURSDAY IN MAY by The Every Other Thursday Night Poetry Group. The poem was not much longer than the title.
We entertained (at least I think we did) another Alan in the person of first-timer Alan Siegel. He jumped right in and took our criticism of his poem with good humor. It was another philosophical concept womb poem with some good lines, but some glaring faults which detracted from it the message. (written in all caps, quotation marks, underlines). Mimi reminded us all: "It doesn't matter if you know what you mean if you are not communicating it to the audience." Best advice.
Ally Cat communicated very well with Toxic Silence, about a 14 year-old boy who was shielded from his father's illness and subsequent death and the effect it had on his whole life.
Tim presented a clean, powerful poem we all liked. It turned out that we did not get the message from it that Tim intended, but the audience felt it was very effective with the message we heard. Good controlled repetition, Mimi suggested couplets. Tim thought he should write another version.
I dragged out a poem I had written in April that I wasn't crazy about but people pretended to like it. Called it Leaving Without Luggage re my father's death. In response to a query I just said I thought it was not bad, but mediocre. I still think so.
Okay, on to the honkers debate. To sum up, Obee used the word in a great poem - "upon my honkers as I lie" - and refused to tell us what it meant, so we all guessed and I promised to look it up. I guessed "butt" but Merriam-Webster said "nose". Today Obee caved and told me look in a neat site called the urban dictionary, where it describes honkers as haunches, which is close to butt, and also something Alan mentioned. Now I have forgotten how it was used in the poem, but the mystery part is put to rest. The poem, called Travelers, read like a prayer or a lullaby and we liked "dipping (the) ladle into sleep."
On to the news and gossip: Mimi asked that I report that HVWG is having a picnic on Sunday afternoon, August 2, in the Paint Mine area of Thacher Park. It is a "bring a dish to pass" type party and it sounds like fun to me. Details to come. Also, remember poetry extravaganza on June 1 at Smitty's. Larry's philosophers meet June 4. Lifelines is on vacaton until September. There was a good turnout for Sunday Four and Mimi is the feature in June.
Tom is out of town, the Beach Boy has moved to the lake, and Obee just called with news of a computer disaster. I have a headache, if anyone cares.
Friday, May 15, 2009
The Deadline Looms
Art show masterpieces must be here before May 31. Tom and I will be hanging the show that day. Feel free to stop in and criticize. I'm joking. I thought O'Bee would be helping, but no! We are meeting again on May 28, if you want to bring your stuff then.
Congrats to Rachael who had a short story accepted for publication (for money!) and promised to share the address of a good website for submissions.
Several EOTNPs are reading at the Oriel Cafe at Philomena's church on the 15th - that's tonight - at 7 p.m. 405 Washington Ave, with good music and cafe food.
Reminder: Will Christman reading at Smitty's on June 1. On to this evening...
My nominations for best line/phrase of the night:
Philomena: Dislodge this hot rock from my throat
Rachael: ...he swears to love it longer than the cats will live.
O'Bee: ...as he will never have enough of women's love.
Tim: ...reluctant little ponds
Jim: Now the muck and sponge of peat where once a forest stood...
Best entire poem (my opinion only!):
Tom's Screen Dump: In Perugia;Tim's Still Here; Alan's Rhea saved Zeus
Rhea saved Zeus, which began with a surprise gift to the monstrous Kronos, was a gift to all of us from Alan. He captured the mythical story in an airy and humorous poem we all enjoyed, and was kind enough to capsulize the tragic story for us as an addendum. Excellent stuff. I thought Screen Dump was clever and it carried me right along, but Art commented that it was in danger of becoming epigrammatic, which can be tedious, said his attention flagged. We talked about being an artist vs a craftsperson, but tabled the discussion for another occasion. Tim was complemented on both the story line and the presentation, with short, terse, Hemingway-like sentences and no -ing endings, which it seems no one likes much.
Musth - with an "h" - is "a state of violent frenzy occurring in rutting season in male elephants, accompanied by exudation of an oily substance from the eye and mouth glands." And that settles that - Professor Willis prevails, misspellings don't count. (Paul suggested substituting "elephant sex"). Tim remarked that it is still a bad odor, either must or musk, and Art wittily replied "Not to the elephants." I also looked up opprobrium. Oh, Tom wanted the poem broken into 4 stanzas is a good idea.
Tom had another good idea for Jim's work, which began with the Shakespearean-sounding line quoted above. Tom suggesting moving the first stanza to the end to solve a transition problem that Mark pointed out between stanza 1 and 2. Jim had some good alliteration in this Golfing in Northern Ireland saga in which he compared it to love, golfing and love both being psychoses. I mistook the 12D & E reference as apartment numbers rather than airplane seats.
Philomena wrote some terrific lines citing her desire to be a better person in Meditation on the St. Francis Prayer. We had to explain to Ms. Abrams, our little Jewish poet, who St. Francis was (the guy from Assisi who befriends animals, much like Edie does herself.) The Prayer is also a work worth reading.
Mr. Amidon, who will in the future be referred to as Paul Perfect, brought another faultless poem about Drought. I don't know what was the matter with everyone tonight, but we wasted a lot of time quibbling about verb tenses in a number of poems, including this one.
Edie claims to have heard Paul's voice as she was writing her Spring poem, which began with a recitation of green shades and a reference to the Hudson River School, and ended with she and Caesar stumping through the preserve. Nice one, despite more controversy over verb tenses.
Rachael told us she had halved her leather couch poem and it was still a work in progress. Not realizing this room/couch actually existed, I inadvertently insulted her interior decorating abilities - sorry, Rachael - and she likened poets to navel lint experts. We talked in general about what details to include, what details to leave out. Thanks, Mark, for LTD. I was not familiar with that phrase.
Great title nomination:
O'Bee's The events that were soon on top of him:
Neolethean - O'Bee's new river Styx. Love that. Alan mentioned that this reflection on women and aging was autobiographical and not only did we all agree, we all related. You "never have enough of women's love" (or men's either). Art helpfully contributed a line on "finding your body seeking friendship with gravity". Ha.
Who am I forgetting? Only myself, I guess, cause we ran out of time, but that's okay - after the critics flapping their jaws tonight, I need to check my verb tenses before I offer it for inspection.
A few photos follow. Good alliteration, Barbara.
Congrats to Rachael who had a short story accepted for publication (for money!) and promised to share the address of a good website for submissions.
Several EOTNPs are reading at the Oriel Cafe at Philomena's church on the 15th - that's tonight - at 7 p.m. 405 Washington Ave, with good music and cafe food.
Reminder: Will Christman reading at Smitty's on June 1. On to this evening...
My nominations for best line/phrase of the night:
Philomena: Dislodge this hot rock from my throat
Rachael: ...he swears to love it longer than the cats will live.
O'Bee: ...as he will never have enough of women's love.
Tim: ...reluctant little ponds
Jim: Now the muck and sponge of peat where once a forest stood...
Best entire poem (my opinion only!):
Tom's Screen Dump: In Perugia;Tim's Still Here; Alan's Rhea saved Zeus
Rhea saved Zeus, which began with a surprise gift to the monstrous Kronos, was a gift to all of us from Alan. He captured the mythical story in an airy and humorous poem we all enjoyed, and was kind enough to capsulize the tragic story for us as an addendum. Excellent stuff. I thought Screen Dump was clever and it carried me right along, but Art commented that it was in danger of becoming epigrammatic, which can be tedious, said his attention flagged. We talked about being an artist vs a craftsperson, but tabled the discussion for another occasion. Tim was complemented on both the story line and the presentation, with short, terse, Hemingway-like sentences and no -ing endings, which it seems no one likes much.
Musth - with an "h" - is "a state of violent frenzy occurring in rutting season in male elephants, accompanied by exudation of an oily substance from the eye and mouth glands." And that settles that - Professor Willis prevails, misspellings don't count. (Paul suggested substituting "elephant sex"). Tim remarked that it is still a bad odor, either must or musk, and Art wittily replied "Not to the elephants." I also looked up opprobrium. Oh, Tom wanted the poem broken into 4 stanzas is a good idea.
Tom had another good idea for Jim's work, which began with the Shakespearean-sounding line quoted above. Tom suggesting moving the first stanza to the end to solve a transition problem that Mark pointed out between stanza 1 and 2. Jim had some good alliteration in this Golfing in Northern Ireland saga in which he compared it to love, golfing and love both being psychoses. I mistook the 12D & E reference as apartment numbers rather than airplane seats.
Philomena wrote some terrific lines citing her desire to be a better person in Meditation on the St. Francis Prayer. We had to explain to Ms. Abrams, our little Jewish poet, who St. Francis was (the guy from Assisi who befriends animals, much like Edie does herself.) The Prayer is also a work worth reading.
Mr. Amidon, who will in the future be referred to as Paul Perfect, brought another faultless poem about Drought. I don't know what was the matter with everyone tonight, but we wasted a lot of time quibbling about verb tenses in a number of poems, including this one.
Edie claims to have heard Paul's voice as she was writing her Spring poem, which began with a recitation of green shades and a reference to the Hudson River School, and ended with she and Caesar stumping through the preserve. Nice one, despite more controversy over verb tenses.
Rachael told us she had halved her leather couch poem and it was still a work in progress. Not realizing this room/couch actually existed, I inadvertently insulted her interior decorating abilities - sorry, Rachael - and she likened poets to navel lint experts. We talked in general about what details to include, what details to leave out. Thanks, Mark, for LTD. I was not familiar with that phrase.
Great title nomination:
O'Bee's The events that were soon on top of him:
Neolethean - O'Bee's new river Styx. Love that. Alan mentioned that this reflection on women and aging was autobiographical and not only did we all agree, we all related. You "never have enough of women's love" (or men's either). Art helpfully contributed a line on "finding your body seeking friendship with gravity". Ha.
Who am I forgetting? Only myself, I guess, cause we ran out of time, but that's okay - after the critics flapping their jaws tonight, I need to check my verb tenses before I offer it for inspection.
A few photos follow. Good alliteration, Barbara.
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